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So one of my life’s ridiculous aspirations is to be a genius at something. I attach too much of this aesthetic cool to being incredibly good/intuitive/smart regarding one particular thing whilst perhaps suffering otherwise in social contexts. I feel though that by expressing this said desire, I am forever to remain mediocre and mundane. I understand I should be a bit more about bite and not just bark. Stop talking about it and just do it. People tell me I’m really good at ambient soundscapes and that I should score this or that. Some sort of texture genius. Not exactly what I had in mind though. Come to think of it, I might be confusing the definition of genius with hero. But I’m not trying to making too, too much of my confusion and complaints. One way in which I think I progress as an individual is by reading books.
I just finished reading Haruki Murakami’s “A Wild Sheep Chase” (my 3rd Murakami novel). It was awesome, though I doubt I understood much of its philosophical implications. I then read a review of the book in order to help myself make sense of it. The author of the review also stated that she only understood 20 percent of the book. Phew. It turns out she discovered the book by accidentally stumbling across Kat Dennings’ blog. I’d like to get to know Kat Dennings one day. Maybe I’m just saying that because I think she’s hot. Maybe it’s because she plays cool characters and reads cool books. Reading is sexy though.
I guess this is precisely the sort of thing I have yet to understand about myself though. Do I do me, because I want to do me? Or do I do me because I think that it would be cool to do me? (Cool as through the eyes of someone who is not myself.)